Phoenix

by Jessica Wayne

  Anastasia nodded. “Just praying we’ll catch a break and end this war.”

  “You know, it’s strange. I was young when we first heard of the Brutes, and it seems like ever since then, we’ve been fighting to keep them at bay and protect our people. I wonder what it will be like to not have to worry about this threat anymore.”

  “I hope we’ll find out soon.” Anastasia smiled.

  “I’m sorry about your father. I didn’t know him well, but I did know he was a good man.”

  “Thanks, he was.”

  “I lost my parents a long time ago. They were both Fighters,” she explained. “I can tell you that, while the pain never disappears, it does become easier to live with. Especially when you get the chance to kick some serious Brute ass.” She nudged Anastasia with her shoulder and smiled.

  “I am definitely looking forward to that.”

  “I’m going to finish grabbing some firewood before Tony demotes me,” she said with a laugh. “Talk soon?”

  “Definitely.” Anastasia continued staring up at the sky for a moment longer, then headed back to help get the camp set up.

  As the group gathered around the fire that evening, Andrew recalled stories from his early days in the war against the Brutes. Tony laughed beside him, interjecting whenever he felt the need to correct something Andrew remembered incorrectly.

  All in all, the Fighters seemed to be in good spirits, which gave Anastasia a sense of peace. The battle was far from over, but hope was the most important thing in a war, and her people had it.

  “Anastasia, tell us a story,” Kalisa urged, pulling Anastasia from her thoughts.

  “About?”

  “Anything. It can even be made up. Since this is your first outing as a Fighter, it’s tradition.”

  Anastasia looked to Tony for confirmation, and he smiled.

  “Well then, can’t mess up tradition, can I?” Anastasia straightened. “You all know I grew up somewhere pretty far away, but what you probably don’t know, is that I was in a different world all together.”

  The flames danced on the faces of her comrades, and they leaned closer to listen intently.

  “In my world, Seattle, we have running water, electricity, and cars that drive to take us places.”

  “We have running water here, too.” One of the Fighters gestured to the stream beside them, and Anastasia stifled a laugh.

  “Ours was a bit different. You could turn on a faucet and water would come out at whatever temperature you wanted it to.”

  “You didn’t have to heat it up?” the man Anastasia knew as Boris asked curiously.

  She shook her head. “You can turn it hot or cold.”

  “What’s electricity?” Andrew asked.

  “Lights. But instead of fire, you just flip a switch up and down to turn the light on or off.”

  “Fascinating,” Kalisa added.

  “It was.” Anastasia smiled. “I grew up—”

  Movement near the creek caught her eye.

  A soft rustling sound drew Tony and the other Fighters to their feet. They crept toward the trees slowly, and just before they reached the edge of the clearing, a group of Brutes rushed them.

  “Hold your positions!” Tony instructed, so no Fighter would get flanked. They were outnumbered by only a few, and each Fighter flew into action.

  Anastasia dodged a blade that sailed by her head, and struck out with her sword, slicing the attacking beast from neck to navel. She reached down inside herself for her power and let the rage build as she fought against another attacking Brute.

  This one was more strategic than the last, and dodged her blade or blocked it with his sword each time she swung. Once she was sure she had the magic within her grasp, Anastasia conjured a ball of flame in her palm, just as she had in the cabin with Gregory and Ophelia.

  Stunned, the beast stared at the magic a moment too long, and she heaved it at him, satisfied when it burrowed in his chest. Since platinum-coated blades were the only way to kill Brutes, she finished him off with her sword and moved on to the next.

  The Brute numbers had thinned, and she could all but taste the victory, but as she looked around, she noticed a body crumpled in the center.

  Kalisa. Anger and grief had Anastasia’s magic calling to her. A silent let me out humming in her veins much as it had when she’d killed Ophelia.

  “Anastasia!” Tony called, breaking her concentration.

  She spun and ducked just in time to miss one of the beast’s fists. She sliced her blade through the Brute’s torso, then paused, taking in the battles around her as she caught her breath. The last two beasts were cut down, and Anastasia knelt next to Kalisa’s broken body, sadness weighing her limbs.

  “She was a magnificent Fighter,” Andrew said as the Fighters circled the two women. Anastasia looked at Shane, who was staring down at the woman’s body. Unshed tears shined his eyes, and his jaw was hard.

  “She shouldn’t have died tonight,” Tony added.

  “No, she shouldn’t have,” Anastasia said, placing a hand over Kalisa’s open eyes. “How did they get so close?”

  Boris approached from the east, running at full speed. “The Brutes must’ve seen Phillip and Dacklin’s fire. They’re dead.”

  “No!” Tony roared. “They were supposed to be keeping watch! There should have been no fire!” He clenched his fists, then turned to take charge of the others. “Gather the bodies. We will bury them and move on. We are no longer safe here.”

  Anastasia stared down at Kalisa, her eyes welling with tears as grief wrapped a cold, spindly hand around her heart. How had tonight gone so wrong, so quickly? When would her people catch a break?

  36

  Seattle

  Dakota

  Another murder.

  Dakota distanced himself from the blood-soaked asphalt and broken body that made up the gruesome scene in an alley before him. He didn’t need anyone to tell him who his latest victim was.

  Edgar Jackson had been first in line for state senate. He had already shown quite an increase in polls and was practically uncontested. Or had been, anyway. This poor bastard had been found by a passerby who—as he says it—had stepped into the alley to make a call. Dakota knew full and well the jackass was high, but he had no interest in busting him.

  Shit, after seeing the state of this victim, he imagined the guy went home and smoked a whole lot more than just one joint.

  Jackson’s head had been bashed in, but with what, they didn’t yet know. No weapons remained at the scene. The medical examiner would need to do a full autopsy before presenting his report, but Dakota already knew what the report would read. If it were anything like the other murders plaguing the city for the past few months, the coroner would find finger marks on the skull, as if someone had crushed the man’s head with their bare hands.

  And, like the other unsolved homicides before it, there would be no evidence, and the case would go into the steadily growing pile of cases that had no answer in sight.

  There appeared to be no pattern to the victims and, so far, the only connections he’d drawn were that three—now four—of them had been high-ranking city or state officials. The other homicides appeared to be random, as if the killer wanted to throw the force off their trail. It wasn’t until this last death that Dakota had begun putting pieces together.

  This recent crime made thirty-five deaths in the last sixty days. People were panicked, and the media was having a field day with it.

  “This is just insane.” Harry stood next to him, staring down at the body.

  Dakota glanced at his partner. Stress had aged the man twenty years in the last month. His black hair had already shown signs of grey, but the bags beneath his eyes were new.

  Dakota could relate. He’d only made Detective last year, and already was racking up a large list of unsolved cases. Fuck. He rubbed his hands over his face. His partner had about seven years of experience on him, and even he was stumped.

  It was cloudy, maki
ng it seem much later in the afternoon than it was. He checked his watch; three-forty-five in the afternoon meant he had just enough time to go check out his first lead.

  “I'm going to head downtown.” He turned and headed for his car. “I’ll meet you at the station.”

  “Yeah.” Harry nodded absently. The deaths were taking a more considerable toll on the senior detective than he wanted to admit.

  Dakota climbed into his car and headed downtown. Buildings passed by his window, but he paid no notice. His mind was already running through possible scenarios for this afternoon’s interaction.

  How was the asshole going to take being questioned? Dakota hoped like hell he put up a fight. He could already imagine ramming his fist into the prick’s arrogant face.

  There was only one man who stood to gain anything from these recently linked deaths, and Dakota had waited for years for a reason to bring the bastard down. On the fast track for state senate, his opponents were dropping like flies, one by one.

  Damn, it was going to feel good cuffing Mitch Carter.

  A leggy blonde led Dakota into Mitch Carter’s office.

  The asshole stood, extending his hand. “Ah, Dakota. It’s nice of you to drop by.”

  “This isn’t a social call, Carter.”

  “Well then.” Mitch laughed and lowered his hand. “What can I help you with, Detective?”

  “Where were you last night between the hours of midnight and four a.m.?”

  “What exactly am I being accused of?”

  “Nothing.” Yet. “Just answer the question, please.”

  “Ask my assistant; we were working all night.” The lilt of Mitch’s voice made Dakota’s stomach turn. Working, my ass.

  Mitch had a well-known reputation for “working” late with his assistants—which he went through like most men went through a six pack of cheap beer.

  Dakota narrowed his eyes. “I think I will.” He turned to leave the office—

  “Your father would be proud of you, Dakota, following in his footsteps. Don’t follow too closely, though. I would hate for anything to happen to you.”

  Dakota’s blood boiled as he turned around. The son of a bitch had balls, that was for sure. “You will never mention my father again, Carter.”

  “I'm only concerned for your safety, Dakota. Wouldn’t want your mother to have to face the evils of the world without her perfect son to watch over her,” he sneered.

  Dakota fought for control over his anger. He balled his hands into fists at his sides, and he took a deep breath. Not worth it, Parker.

  “I still don’t see what Anastasia saw in you. Seems she truly was an idiot.”

  Dakota crossed the floor to Mitch in two long strides. Mitch’s eyes widened as Dakota got so close to him their noses nearly touched. He kept his hands clenched at his sides to keep himself from grabbing the asshole by the throat and doing what he’d wished he’d done ten years ago.

  “You better watch what you fucking say to me. My parents and Anastasia are off limits.” He turned to storm out of the office. “Don’t fucking leave town,” he called over his shoulder, then slammed the door behind him.

  “Did you get everything you needed, Detective?” Carter’s assistant asked when Dakota stepped back into the reception area.

  “No, actually, I have a couple questions for you.”

  “Oh?” She stood and leaned over the counter, showing off an impressive amount of cleavage. Dakota couldn’t have cared less. At one point, during the years he tried to forget Ana, his standards may have been nonexistent, but it would be a cold day in hell before he touched anything Mitch had pawed. Fucking bastard.

  “I needed to know where your boss was last night, between the hours of midnight and four a.m.”

  She grinned, showing off perfectly straight white teeth, and batted fake eyelashes at him. “Well, you see. We were working very hard last night.”

  Dakota felt like he was going to throw up in his mouth. “Until four o’clock this morning?”

  She leaned further over the counter, and Dakota heard one of the men sitting in a navy blue waiting chair clear his throat. “I’m a very hard worker.”

  “I’m sure you are. Thank you, Miss—”

  “Oh, Daniels. Clarice Daniels.” She offered him a perfectly manicured hand, and he shook it lightly.

  “Thank you.”

  “Anytime, Detective. I took the liberty of writing down my phone number and address.” She handed him a pink Post-It note. “You know, in case you need to get a hold of me. Day or night.” She winked, and Dakota offered a tight smile, ready to get the fuck away from this office.

  “Thanks.” He turned and headed out through the brightly lit hall.

  He wasn’t sure how, but Dakota would find a way to link Mitch to these murders. Everything in his gut told him the asshole was guilty, or at least tied to the crime spree in some way.

  The walk to the parking garage was a short one, and it was only a few minutes before Dakota unlocked his car. He took a moment to bite back the rage he felt whenever he had to deal with Mitch Carter. Unfortunately, it was more often than he’d care to admit.

  Since the murdering son of a bitch had moved on up to District Attorney, he spent a lot of time at the precinct.

  Dakota checked the time; it was nearing five p.m., and he knew that even if he went back to the office, nothing else would get done today. Not many people chose to work past five anymore.

  So instead of heading to work, he made his way to the bar down the street from his building in hopes that he might be able to drink himself numb enough to sleep tonight.

  It was nearly midnight when he unlocked the door to his apartment.

  “Dakota? Is that you?”

  He turned toward the sound of his mother’s sleepy voice, trying his best to put a smile on his face. She stood in the doorway to her apartment across the hall, eyes puffy from sleep.

  “Yeah, hi, Mom. It was a late night; I’m sorry I woke you.”

  “Dakota.”

  He let out a breath, there was no use lying to her.

  “Have you been drinking?”

  “I had a few.”

  “How many is a few?”

  “It was a long day, Mom.” He pushed his door open, then turned to face her again. “I had a run-in with Mitch today.”

  He couldn’t tell her the details, or that he suspected Mitch had been involved with one of his cases, but he could at least let her know he had seen him.

  She straightened, and her jaw clenched. “I hope you find something that locks that son of a bitch up for good.”

  Dakota smiled and kissed her cheek. “Me too, Mom. I love you.”

  “I love you, too, Dakota. And no more drinking alone. Call me, I would be more than happy to have a glass or two.”

  “You got it.” He paused, fear momentarily gripping his heart. “I'm going to drive you to work tomorrow.”

  And from now on. At least until they caught whoever was behind the homicides.

  “Dakota, that’s not necessary. The hospital is only two blocks away.”

  “I have an open morning,” he lied. “We can leave a little early and grab some breakfast.” He walked into his apartment and shut the door, not giving her the chance to decline his offer. He watched through the peephole as she closed her own door, then breathed a sigh of relief.

  37

  Terrenia

  Anastasia

  A week later, they were no closer to finding the Brute hideout. They had searched a dozen villages, half a dozen caves, and part of the mountainside.

  Tony stood beside her, looking out at the mountains that rose above them. “We may have to go deeper into the caverns.”

  “I agree. We need rest first, though.” She looked back at the remaining Fighters. They hadn’t run across anymore ambushes, but the constant travel wore greatly on her companions.

  Even Kaley, who had caught up with them the day after the attack in the clearing, was moving more slowly than u
sual.

  “We can make camp here tonight, and then tomorrow we will head into the mountains. We’re getting close… I know it.” She turned to face Tony. “We only need to know where they are. Once we figure that out, we can make a plan. We are no match for them in force, but if we can get a shot at Vincent, then we may stand a chance. If you want to stop a snake, you have to cut off its head.”

  “I know I’ve said it before, but you are a brave girl, Anastasia. I have no doubt that Gregory and Annabelle are very proud of you. Hell, I’m proud of you.” He rested his hand on her shoulder. “When I helped Gregory and Annabelle escape the village after Vincent kidnapped you, I lost my wife and young son.” He gazed into the mouth of a cave nestled into the side of the mountain. The other Fighters worked quickly to set up camp for the night, eager for much-needed sleep.

  “I didn’t know that, Tony. I’m so sorry.”

  He nodded, his face tightened as he relived those painful memories. “It was a dark time for me and, had it not been for Gregory, I may have never come back from such loss. He was a great man.”

  “Yes, he was,” she agreed, pushing back the memory of her father. She had to stay focused; she couldn’t afford to lose herself in grief now. “I'm going to go and scout ahead, see if I can pick up some tracks,” she said, desperate for a change in subject.

  “I’ll come with you.” He turned to Andrew. “Stay here. No one goes off alone. We are going to go check things out, and we’ll be back shortly.”

  “Got you, Tony,” he replied, then joined the others in setting up camp.

  “Want some additional company?” Shane asked.

  Tony looked to her for confirmation.

  “Sure, if you’d like,” Anastasia answered.

  Tony, Anastasia, and Shane turned to walk deeper into the caverns, Kaley following closely behind, her ears erect and her gaze flicking back and forth quickly. They couldn’t risk attracting unwanted attention by using a torch, so they did their best to squint in the darkness, relying on their other heightened senses and any noises to alert them of danger.